Sanctuary
by Sulfur
Summary: Part II uploaded: a final peace for Kim and Shego. (Kigo slash warning.)
1. Part I

SANCTUARY

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Kigo fic written from Kim's point of view.  
Disclaimer: KP does not belong to me.

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THE WORLD IS ON FIRE.  
I can't see, but I can hear the flames leaping and sizzling and crackling all around me. There isn't any place I can go.  
I'm lying on my side. I don't know where I'm injured, but it hurts everywhere. I can't even stand up. When the flames close in, the world will no longer have its savior--me. Ron is gone; I sent him back to Middleton because I didn't want him hurt. Now I'm going to burn alive and there is nothing I can do about it.  
I hear footsteps. I must be hallucinating. Maybe I have a concussion.  
Whoever it is bends down towards me. I feel someone's warm breath on my neck. "Hurt yourself, Kimmie?" A voice whispers.  
It's Shego. I feel my heart start to pump harder, blood coursing faster through my veins. While Shego and I are fighting, this always happens...my pulse hammers, my adrenaline surges, and my sweat glands whip into overdrive. It never happens in any other fight, only with Shego. I used to think she was just a tough opponent; I had to try especially hard to beat her. But then, part of me would want to throw her to the ground and grind her ribs into dust, and part of me would want to pin her to the wall and press my lips to hers, and feel her tongue caress mine.  
But Shego hates me, with as much passion as I feel the opposite way. I'm sure she's going to kill me. I just hope she does it quickly.  
Her long, pointed nails glide gracefully down my backbone. I tremble with the warm rush that her touch brings.  
"It's heating up, isn't it, Kimmie? I'd better get you out of here before you catch fire."  
One of her arms slides beneath my knees, the other under my shoulders. My head lolls into her shoulder, and I breathe deeply, taking in her scent, like a flower-laden breeze.  
"Not that you aren't already on fire," she whispers into my ear. "You're beautiful. Kimmie, I want you." Her voice is filled with deep-rooted desire, but she speaks gently, and I know she won't hurt me.  
She is walking now, and I can't see where she is going--my head aches if I open my eyes--but the roaring heat of the fire dissipates. I can hear Shego's heart beating calmingly against my chest.  
Shego carries me for a long time. I lose track of how long. I concentrate on how her breath flutters my hair, and how her one hand tightens on my shoulder, bringing me closer to her. I had no idea she felt the same way about me as I do about her, and I have no idea what she is going to do to me now, but as long as she doesn't kill me, I don't care what she does. There's nothing I can do, anyway; I can't move, and I don't even know if I'm capable of speech. Shego can do whatever she likes with me.  
Suddenly, I'm jolted; Shego's walking up a flight of stairs. She halts at the top.  
"Can you stand, Kimmie?" she asks me.  
I rake the leaves out of my throat. "No." My voice is weak and raspy.  
She nudges my head gently. "I'll carry you then."  
I crack my eyes open. It hurts, but I want to see where Shego has taken me. We're in a dusty, shadowy warehouse that I'm sure no one has set foot in for a long time. What are we doing here?  
Then I see. There is a mattress on the floor. But unlike the rest of this environment, it is clean, and it even has sheets; deep, lush, forest green, a perfect color for Shego and I to be surrounded by as we lie close to one another.  
Shego sets me down gently on top of the mattress. She removes the glove from her right hand and bends down, smiling, to caress my cheek. I close my eyes and shiver contentedly.  
Now she lies down next to me. Instead of pulling the sheets over my body, she pushes them away from me. She sits up and slowly, longingly, runs her eyes up and down my frame. "Mmmm," she sighs quietly, diving into me, her mouth against the skin of my neck. Her hands massage my sides, so tenderly it makes tears drip down my cheeks. I can feel her nipping gently at my throat. Then, her tongue slowly explores the hollow of my neck. My lips part and I moan involuntarily.  
She leans back and smiles. I shiver. Her expression is wicked, voracious, licking her lips. I'm her prey. She knows she has power over me. But I want to be the one pressing her into the mattress, I want to hear her moaning. I grip her shoulders with both hands and try to push her onto her back, but I'm too weak, and I ache all over. I give up and bury my face in her chest.   
She is in control and we both know it. I don't care, she has me snared and I don't want to escape.  
"You're in pain." She whispers. It isn't a question.  
"It hurts all over." I whimper. It's true; a dull ache pounds everywhere in my body.  
"I can fix that. Just relax," she murmurs gently. I obey; I unclench my muscles and close my eyes. I feel her stroking my hair, my neck, my arms, my sides, my back...I let out a sigh. Wherever she touches me, the pain dissipates.  
"Better?"  
I nod. I can't manage much else.  
Now I feel her sharp, steely nails kneading my neck. The rhythm of her claws gets faster, harder, a crescendo of needles of pain. I feel her breath on my face and her nails hurt so deep, so good. I lie still. The skin of my neck breaks, and I feel blood oozing from the wounds. I gasp, letting out the pain.  
"Good girl, Kimmie," she whispers. "You didn't fight me." She kisses my throat tenderly, her tongue lapping up my blood.  
She grips me hard. I open the collar of her jumpsuit and press my lips to her neck to calm myself down; the softness of her skin is soothing. But half of me whispers that Shego could rip my clothes off...if she wants to, and the other half tells me gently to relax and drift in whatever Shego has planned for me.  
I feel her fingers cup my chin. She tips my head up so she can kiss me.  
Her lips are surprisingly gentle; her hands are wild, squeezing my waist so hard. But I love the roughness, the wildness, and I don't complain when the pressure between our mouths deepens and her tongue glides over mine unbidden.  
She lets me go, and I inhale deeply. I'd forgotten I needed to breathe. "You loved that, didn't you, Kimmie?"  
"Shego, not so fast, please," I beg.  
She laughs softly. "Guess I need more self-control. Sorry, Kimmie."  
"Did I hear that right? You just said you were sorry?" I whisper bravely.  
She says nothing, just clutches my hip with one hand, hard enough to hurt. I get the message.  
I keep my face nestled into her neck as both her arms circle me, holding me tightly so I'm not cold. I wrap my own arms around her waist. She kisses my hair and massages my back. "Kimmie, you have the silkiest hair," she murmurs.  
Shego sits up and I roll onto my back. She bends over me, reaching for my legs, her fingers shaking like she's holding back. She strokes my thighs and goosebumps pop up along my legs. I'm glad I'm wearing long pants and she can't see the tiny bumps becoming erect on my skin. "I never liked cheerleaders...except you, of course. But prancing around in that adorable little cheerleading outfit seems to have shaped you nicely." She sits back and gazes hungrily at me. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen." she proclaims, lying back down next to me and holding on to me firmly.  
I lay a kiss on her cheek. "I'm flattered," I sigh with a smile. I reach for her and she pulls me closer. I slip my arms around her back. "Shego?"  
"Yes?"  
"How did you know I wanted you so bad?" I whisper.  
She tilts my head back and traps me in her gaze. "We have to make eye contact when we're fighting, right?"  
"Mm-hmm."  
She steals a kiss. "I could tell it wasn't hate in your eyes."  
"You covered your feelings pretty well."  
"That doesn't mean I don't feel the same way about you as you feel about me, does it?"  
"Well..." but she commandeers my mouth. When our lips separate, I ask a different question. "Why now? Why did you pick now to open up to me?"  
"You needed it. You were dying and you needed someone to help you."  
"Thank you."  
"Any time, Kimmie."  
_Any time_. I love the sound of that. When I'm in trouble, when I need someone to comfort me, I can see her taking me away and holding me until I'm ready to face the world again.  
I know I'm in ferocious trouble for staying away from home this long, but I let myself drift towards sleep anyway. Shego is still now, letting me fall asleep; she'll wake me when I have to leave.  
But for now, I'm content to stay.

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A/N: I will continue working on "Veils of Secrecy."


	2. Part II

SANCTUARY: PART TWO  
  
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Conclusion to Part One, once again from Kim's point of view.  
Disclaimer: KP does not belong to me.  
  
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I'M DIZZY, BARELY ABLE TO STAND, as Shego and I stumble through the door of our apartment.  
  
We were out dancing, and I can still hear the blaring music pounding in my ears. Shego supports me as I stumble.  
  
I giggle softly and stand on my tiptoes to kiss Shego's neck. Her hands gliding over my body feel so good.  
  
She pushes me down into the couch and plunges into me, her hands slipping up my shirt. I grip her waist and cling to her until she stops.  
  
"I love you, Kimmie," she murmurs, tangling her fingers in my hair.  
  
"Right back at you," I groan, hanging on to Shego like my life depends on it.  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
She kisses my forehead. "Let's relax, shall we?"  
  
I nod, keeping my head snugged under her chin. "Mmmm," I sigh, pushing her thick sweater up. She must have been roasting alive in the sweaty, smoky club where we just were; I know she wore that sweater because she knows how much I love the way it looks on her. Something about that particular black, clingy sweater makes me want to pull it off her and touch her skin.  
  
"You're loving this, aren't you, Kimmie?" she laughs, gently brushing my hands away.  
  
"Tell me the story," I breathe, stroking her.  
  
"To you or about you?"  
  
"About me." I said "to me" last time.  
  
She bends over me, smiling. When she speaks, her voice is low and husky. "It wasn't so long ago that I had to fight this little girl. Fiery redhead, absolutely beautiful."  
  
I smile at the thought that Shego thinks me beautiful.  
  
"When we clashed in battle, I watched the way she moved, making my mouth water. I wanted to be close to her so bad. Instead of trying to hurt her, I wanted to protect her. But I knew no, that was impossible, and it made me furious, and I used that anger when I fought this girl. She would never be mine. That's what I thought, until I noticed, in her eyes the same color as mine, a look similar to the way I watched her."  
  
I'm sure you made my mouth water more than the opposite, Shego, I think. I'm nowhere near as breathtaking as you. Remeber when we were fighting in that giant cheese wheel? You looked stunning in that Club Banana jacket that I wanted. It fit you so perfectly. I wanted to pull one of your arms out of that jacket and push my arm through the sleeve, and snuggle myself into it next to you.  
  
"Then one day after I finished fighting her, she was lying, injured, close to a fire that would have consumed her if I hadn't done something. But I did. I picked her up and I carried her to a place where I knew we could be alone."  
  
"I love this part," I whisper with my head buried in her chest.  
  
"So do I. I stayed with her until she was ready to face the world again." I gave her that phrase. "She eventually fell asleep next to me."  
  
I remember her hands clenching my sides during our first kiss. She's been much more gentle lately. It's amazing how tame she is around me when I'm not vulnerable.  
  
"That wasn't the end of it, either. Oh, no; it was only the beginning.  
  
Sometimes I would show up in her hometown when I knew things were going rough for her. I always managed to help her feel more comfortable with her...trials and tribulations."  
  
I don't know how she knew when I was upset, but then she would find me when I was coming home from school or walking to the mall. We would slip somewhere we wouldn't be seen and she would hold me until I was ready to face my problems. It meant more to me than Shego knows. The first time it happened, I had done badly on a biology test that I was sure I would do well on. I was positive I would be in ferocious trouble with my parents. While I was walking home through Middleton Park, suddenly an arm grasped mine and pulled me behind a tree. It was Shego. I clung to her and sobbed out what was wrong, and she caressed me and whispered reassurances until I felt strong enough to face my parents.  
  
"But this story isn't completely happy," Shego continues, her tone becoming somber. "The girl's parents found out about me...more specifically, how this girl felt about me."  
  
I feel the backs of my eyes begin to heat up. I hate this part. It still stings.  
  
"Her family and friends, whom the girl was sure would still accept her, rejected her. Because she chose me." Tears drip from the corners of my eyes. "She was thrown out of her house, even though she was only sixteen years old."  
  
I know she doesn't give too many details at this part because I hate the memories it brings back. Ron's horror-struck expression, Monique's stubborn, repulsed silence, my parents' rage, the door to my own house slamming in my face. I tried to go on with my life, and go to school, but not even the teachers would look at me straight on. Everyone who had been my friend suddenly denied that they knew my name. And Bonnie attacked me like a rabid dog at someone's bare ankles. I was kicked off the cheerleading squad. Everyone in my school thought I wasn't in my right mind, because I loved Shego.  
  
I'm crying silently, but hard, as Shego continues the story. "So what else was I supposed to do? I took her in, and we share an apartment now. It's been...what, a few months?...since I took her off the streets. She doesn't need those misled people who didn't think she was good enough anymore. She learns her school lessons online, with some help from me. So, this story has a happy ending. Right, Kimmie?"  
  
I don't answer. I'm still sobbing into her, my arms wrapped around her waist as tightly as possible. I'm trying to focus on how relieved I was when Shego took me off the streets. I was curled up on a bench one night, trying to sleep, when I felt a sharp-nailed hand stroke my side. I heard Shego whisper, "_It's all right, Kimmie. Come with me_."  
  
But it doesn't work.  
  
"Kimmie?"  
  
It's no use. I still can't forget how it felt to be ostracized by everyone I knew. Not only rejected, but mistreated. I felt lower than dirt. Even though Shego rescued me, I can't stop thinking about how everyone I knew thought I was no better than scum because I had chosen Shego. They thought she wasn't worth anything. So they thought the same about me.  
  
"It still hurts, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yes," I moan. "It still hurts. I still feel like I'm worthless."  
  
She strokes my hair thoughtfully. "I can fix that."  
  
She picks me up and carries me, like she did that first time. She walks into the bedroom at the back that we both share and places me tenderly on the blanket. The bed is small, but we don't mind. It gives us an excuse to be close. I love waking up and hearing Shego's gentle breathing right next to me.  
  
"Shego?"  
  
"Hmmm?" She draws the blinds but doesn't turn the light on, and I can barely see her in the darkened room.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
I feel Shego's presence next to me. She pulls the covers back, then over our heads. She slowly draws me in closer to her. I plant a quick kiss on her cheek.  
  
Shego kisses me at the place where my skull rounds into my neck. She guides my hands underneath her sweater, pushing it over her head. Then she tenderly unbuttons my top, and waits for me to pull it off all the way. So I drop my shirt on the floor, my pulse hammering. I see dewy sweat beads begin to form on Shego's bewitchingly pale face. A seductive smile curls her lips as she sees a fine trickle of sweat drip down my cheek as well. She kisses it away, and her warm lips against my skin send a blazing tingle up my spine. A few new droplets of sweat issue from beneath my hairline.  
  
"You know what I'm doing, Kimmie," she murmurs, tracing the hollow of my neck with her tongue. She looks ravishing here in the dark, with the bedclothes cresting her head, her sable hair falling over her face in a soft, sensual way that makes me want to stare at her until the sun stops shining. I lean in to touch her lips with mine, and I feel her fingers tugging lightly at the zipper of my jeans.  
  
Finally, Shego answers my question. "I want to show you that you're special."  
  
So she does.


End file.
